


Birthday Wishes

by Cosmic_Biscuit



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Creepy, Gen, Halloween, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Biscuit/pseuds/Cosmic_Biscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnaby doesn't sleep well anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Wishes

He wakes in a cold sweat, gasping for air as screams and the crackling of fire still echo in his mind.

Nightmares.

Always nightmares.

He’d been hoping, desperately _hoping_ , that knowing the truth would bring an end to the terrors that haunted his mind. But time, psychiatrists, and medications had so far proven no match for Maverick’s powers, and he feels sick to his stomach as he peels back the covers and rolls out of bed, grabbing his glasses on the way.

He goes to the kitchen in hopes of finding something that will help him sleep, since he can hardly just take more of his medication. Pao-lin and Ivan had provided him with a veritable encyclopedia of calming herbs and teas, and he brews a heavy cup to take back to his room.

On his way, he gets a prickly sensation up the back of his neck, and the cooling sweat on his skin feels sticky. Biting his lip, he goes to the bathroom instead, and sets the cup on the sink to wash his face.

When he raises his head, the face in the mirror is his own, pale and haunted, with circles under the eyes.

But the glasses aren’t.

And neither are the malevolently glowing blue eyes that stare back at him.

An aborted scream chokes in his throat, and he reflexively grabs the mug, shattering the mirror into thousands of pieces with one throw. Stumbling back, he stares into the shards and sees his normal self, and wonders if he truly is just losing it.

Deep breaths.

Slow, deep breaths.

He swallows painfully, then makes his unsteady way back to bed. He’ll clean up the mess later, he tells himself. Crawling into bed and putting his glasses back on the bedstand, he curls himself into a tight ball and squeezes his eyes shut.

Minutes pass in silence, and slowly, he begins to calm down enough to start dozing a little. And then, just past midnight, his phone startles him awake with a beeped alarm for an incoming text message. Blinking sleepily, he puts his glasses back on and reaches over to pick up his phone.

The sight of the number makes him freeze. It’s a cell that hasn’t been active for over a year, one that he’d thought he’d never have to hear from again. 

His fingers are shaking as he forces himself to open the message.

_‘Happy birthday, Barnaby. It’s such a shame I won’t be there in person this year.’_

The phone shatters when it hits the wall.

He doesn’t sleep at all for the rest of the night.


End file.
